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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416528">The beauty of the Black sisters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmittedWords/pseuds/OmittedWords'>OmittedWords</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Character Study, Gen, Mentioned Draco Malfoy, Mentioned Lucius Malfoy, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:55:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmittedWords/pseuds/OmittedWords</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellatrix Black is, to most wizards and witches, the colour black she drowns in and her pale skin stands out against.<br/>Andromeda Tonks is sweeter, softer and the warmest of browns, compared to her nearly identical sister, Bellatrix.<br/>Narcissa Malfoy is known for her icy demeanour and face as blank as a slate.</p><p>A look into three very intriguing witches; the Black sisters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bellatrix</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beta-ed by the very lovely fadingintostarlight- an amazing Beta!<br/>Lots of thanks to Rim for reading multiple drafts of my works and for the enormous help while writing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bellatrix Black is, to most wizards and witches, the colour black she drowns in and her pale skin stands out against. She’s the mad laughter that threatens of violence to come, and the bright shining red of her favourite curse as she says <em>Crucio</em>. She’s wildness and erratic spells – spells that leave her opponents’ hearts hammering against their ribcages and scrambling to put up shields as she simply laughs gleefully, as if she were playing.</p>
<p>To most people, whether they’re on her side or on the opposing side, she’s a monster. Mostly because no one’s quite sure which page they’re on with Bellatrix.</p>
<p>She is indeed a monster. A monster that revels in the cries and screams as she tortures her opponents. A monster who holds prejudices against her heart and thinks herself above everyone.</p>
<p>But it’s not to say that she was never human.</p>
<p>Before Azkaban had taken her sanity away, before the dark lord has stripped her humanity away, before her head was filled with the most revolting nonsense – Bellatrix was very much human.</p>
<p>She was the sound of loud laughter that caused her parents to admonish her, <em>because Bellatrix remember, ladies don’t laugh so uncouthly.</em> She was wild and adventurous with shining eyes, and when she was merely a child this translated into ripped dresses and tangled curls which made her mother go into a shouting spree. <em>Because Bellatrix, pureblood ladies sit quietly and demurely. Bellatrix, you’re not an uncivilised mudblood boy to go rampaging through mud. Bellatrix you’re not a blood-traitor without any form of manners.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Bellatrix you’re a pureblood lady and you must behave like one.</em>
</p>
<p>But most of all, Bellatrix was stubborn and determined and she stood tall while her mother screamed at her, she stood with a tilt to her chin and a glint in her eyes that said she would do it again. She rebelled against any and every rule her parents put up and they could never realise – shouting at her would only make her worse.</p>
<p>Yet, that’s barely scratched the surface of Bellatrix.</p>
<p>Bellatrix was intelligent and cunning, but her ruling force was never her head and always her emotions. Bellatrix wasn’t heartless – was never heartless – and she feels deeply. When she’s happy there’s a bounce to her step and a curve to her lips that doesn’t go away. If she’s excited, then she’s excited with all the force of a whirlwind and you’d better not get in her way. She fidgets when she’s nervous, frowns when she’s confused and never once is she concerned about pureblood propriety.</p>
<p>Bellatrix is dramatic, in the way she drags her wand when she starts to duel and the theatrical way she uses her voice. She’s dramatic in the way she swaths herself in the darkest of black, knowing it stands out against her skin and knowing it makes her look regal.</p>
<p>Not that Bellatrix needs to try to look regal.</p>
<p>She has high cheekbones and lidded eyes that cause people to pause and look at her. She has a deep voice and she knows how flustered people are when she purrs and whispers – she knows quite well if her amused smirk is anything to go by. She exudes power and is never in need of confidence.</p>
<p>The way her emotions control her is endearing when she’s excited and terrifying the moment it starts becoming darker. When Bellatrix gets angry, she loses her head completely, she’s ruthless and unthinking and her emotions cloud any and every bit of logic. It takes a lot to frighten Bellatrix, enough that people will say that she’s not frightened by anything, but that’s not true. When she’s scared it’s etched into her brows and visible in her eyes. She can’t stand being known as weak and so, she lashes out. When she’s alone she curls in on herself and when she feels tear tracks on her cheeks, she rubs them away furiously.</p>
<p>She’s erratic in her moods and she can jump from pitch black to the brightest smile in a second.</p>
<p>Somehow, Bellatrix fits well with smoke. Carelessly sprawled against a settee on a gloomy day, a wistful expression on her face and a puff of white smoke blowing out of her mouth, its ends curling gracefully. She’s appealing in those rare moments when she’s quiet and she has a different sort of beauty then.</p>
<p>Of course, by the time she’d left Azkaban, she had barely any sort of beauty, quiet or otherwise.</p>
<p>The dementors had sucked away every bit of happiness in her, every bit of joy. By the time she’d gotten out all she had left was a wave of burning anger and a ruthless mind.</p>
<p>Before that, Voldemort had taken her determination and willpower and twisted it so that she’d been left with a burning desire of destruction and a sickening loyalty.</p>
<p>And prior to everything, her parents had shouted and screamed and filled her head with poison and prejudice, and she’d been left with a desire of proving them wrong, no matter the cost, and a warped view of the world.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Andromeda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Andromeda Tonks is sweeter, softer and the warmest of browns, compared to her nearly identical sister, Bellatrix. The same cheekbones and the same lidded eyes but there’s a warmth to her brown eyes and hair, and roundness to her chin. Her voice is gentle as she coos to teddy and there’s a tired smile on the corners of her lips.</p>
<p>But that’s only Andromeda Tonks, grandmother of Teddy.</p>
<p>Andromeda Black is dusty tomes and worn-down covers of the books balanced on her knees. It’s the scratchy parchment against her palm and ink on the tips of her fingers. It’s deafening silence and dimmed lights that cast shadows on her face, and the quiet rustle of the pages.</p>
<p>It’s the stoic expressions that are carved into her face and the obedient quietness that’s rarely broken. Hardly seen and never heard, standing tall yet never meeting the gaze. She is her mother’s lessons that are etched into her skin but never goes beneath the surface. There’s no stopping her mind, no pause for a breath and no halt to her thoughts under the quiet demeanour.</p>
<p>At least, that’s how she was under the strict gaze of her parents. Which, as they’d barely paid attention to her, wasn’t much.</p>
<p>Andromeda is tender fingers and gentle eyes and a sympathetic ear if anyone would confide. It’s the wise advice that tumbles from her lips and the composure she has that’s rarely broken. She’s droll humour and a quiet voice that’s nevertheless easily heard. It’s the unbreakable boundaries that surround her and the distance she keeps from everyone.</p>
<p>It’s the undebatable truth that she’s there but not quite.</p>
<p>She has a purposeful stride as she walks and the presence she always carries with her, pureblood habits she could never shrug off. There’s class in how she sits, class in how she eats, and try as she might, she can’t change any of it. She looks out of place at boisterous gatherings amongst friends and the casual festivities of the burrow. She’d shed her prejudices, shed her identity and stripped away from her family name and yet, the way she holds herself is unmistakably like a Black. It puts others on the edge when her upbringing shines through at times, but she can’t help it.</p>
<p>She never quite fits anywhere.</p>
<p>Andromeda is the shadows of the past she can never escape and the whispers of regret against her ears. It’s in the loneliness she covers up so well and doubts that threaten to choke her. It’s how she holds everything in until she’s filled to the brim and how she completely shatters when she can’t bear any more. It’s the self-destructive tendencies that are never visible but very much a truth.</p>
<p>There’s a darkness in herself that scares her – darkness she cannot escape.</p>
<p>It’s there when she duels, defensive, but then a well-aimed spell tips the duel in her favour. She goes for effective and sometimes those are merciless spells. She finds herself twisting words on her tongue, and then the immorality of the situation would catch up to her. Her biggest weakness is her fear and it’s glaring when her walls are down.</p>
<p>There’s beauty in Andromeda Black in all her darkness and warmth.</p>
<p>Her confident gait and striking presence draw eyes to her, and she knows it, but she doesn’t really care for it. There’s a haughtiness to her expression when she’s displeased, and she looks every inch the regal witch. There’s melancholy surrounding her when she’s too quiet, and there’s startling beauty in that.</p>
<p>She has a wicked smile and tells of cunning plans with suppressed laughter; there’s joy in her as well. She looks exquisite, bathed in sunlight and a lazy smile playing across her lips. Her chuckles are deep and rich, and there’s a surprising playfulness in her. A playfulness that makes her sit at a bit more ease and smile genuinely. When her guard is down, she has teasing smiles and playful nudges and shining eyes.</p>
<p>She’s autumn tones and cosiness that contrast against the arriving cold. Flickering candles in the lengthening nights that cast a glow on her slender fingers. Steaming cups of tea and battered novels reminiscent of childhood.</p>
<p>The quietest of whispered promises in silent nights.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Narcissa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Narcissa Malfoy is known for her icy demeanour and face as blank as a slate, save for the arrogance in the turn of her nose and the tilt of her chin. For her voice is deep and cold like frigid waters, devoid of all emotion. Lady Malfoy stands tall, stony and unemotional to all those who don't know her well.</p>
<p>Narcissa is however far from unemotional.</p>
<p>There's childishness in how Narcissa used to hang onto her sisters' every word, begged them to play with her. There was wonder when she listened to the most fantastical of tales that her sisters, mostly Bellatrix, weaved and she could almost see it.</p>
<p>There's affection in her eyes when she looks at Lucius and in her sleepy smiles first thing in the morning. There's tenderness when she brushes away his hair and gently ties it back, love when he kisses her fingertips – ever the gentleman. There's comfort between them both, comfort in being together.</p>
<p>When Draco was born, she had felt the purest love from the depths of her heart – she'd vowed to love, cherish and protect him. There was nervousness as she first navigated being a mother and near panic at times because<em> Lucius, he still hasn't stopped crying!</em></p>
<p>Narcissa can never be called unemotional but she's not weak, nor necessarily good.</p>
<p>Narcissa hatches plans and the most intricate plots with the most innocent of smiles. She lays traps for her adversaries with honeyed words and the sweetest tones. She disapproves of her sisters' fiery tempers. There are much more effective ways to go about things without resigning to such crass methods. Narcissa's anger is stone cold and she keeps her head and wits intact.</p>
<p>No matter how much she fusses over Draco or bemoans the smallest things, when dark times come, she is the strength of the family. Lucius leans on her during these times; borrows her strength and she shares willingly.</p>
<p>She's composed and dignified in the greatest disasters.</p>
<p>She had composure when Lucius had been taken to Azkaban and he'd been snivelling, pain in his eyes. She'd been deathly pale, but no one would've seen her hands shake. No one had seen her break down in her room. However, when it's her son who's in danger, all composure and dignity go down the drain.</p>
<p>There's beauty in Narcissa. Oh, there's beauty that's both captivating and deadly.</p>
<p>She has pale skin and her light hair done up in a bun and the whitest of pearls around her neck. Pale blue eyes under hooded lids and a smile on the corner of her red-stained lips. She knows of her beauty and knows how eyes are pulled to her and she basks in it. Narcissa's looks are a pride to her, much like her namesake Narcissus.</p>
<p>There's a certain class to her, as is expected of a Black, and she carries herself with elegance and maybe a touch of arrogance. She walks purposefully with her chin held high and others part to make way for her. Her mother's etiquette lessons are ingrained in her and she plays the part of a good hostess yet with all the pleasantries interwoven with the subtlest undercurrents of threats and danger, should she so desire. There's something alluring in the way she can twist pleasantries into poisonous barbs without batting an eye.</p>
<p>There's a gentler beauty in her when she is unaware.</p>
<p>It's there when she's less put together, and her bun starts to come undone. It's there when she waves her hands in exasperation in the middle of a discussion. It's how she covers herself in blankets at the slightest nip of cold and how she clutches cups of tea in both hands. It's when she blushes pink and averts her gaze because Narcissa is rarely flustered.</p>
<p>Narcissa possesses grace in even the most menial of tasks. It's there in how she writes, fingers resting lightly on the quill, hand dancing across the parchment in a series of elaborate loops and flourishes. The way that her palm curves around her wand is both grace and danger.</p>
<p>There's softness and harshness in Narcissa, all at once. There's softness in her eyes and the paleness of her skin, contrasted by the harshness of her high cheekbones and the arch of an eyebrow.</p>
<p>She's akin to fog; ethereal and captivating, yet fatal at the same time.</p>
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